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Dune softly sighed as he sat down in the club, letting his mind rest after a rough week at work. Actually, rough was an understatement. The caracal was working with his construction crew, trying to put together the main scaffolding for a new fifteen story work office. Their boss had been given a timetable that was manageable; they had ten months to finish it. The catch was that the customer had promised them a 50% bonus if they could pull it off before the summer months started. That gave them six months and some change. The boss had pulled the whole crew together and discussed the options. In the end, all of them chose to go after the bonus.

Normally the tan furred cat would go to a different bar, one he was familiar with back on Denver Avenue, but he was simply too exhausted tonight to walk there and so the caracal had dropped into the first bar he had seen. Holding his paws around a steaming cup of hot chocolate was heaven to him. The clouds had covered the sky the whole day and the temperature hadn't climbed above five degrees Celsius. His paws were still nearly shivering as he huddled over his source of heat.

Sensitive ears flicked around, catching the noises and focusing in on individual voices. None were all that interesting so the caracal closed his eyes and lost himself in the soft electronic music being played on the speakers. Each small sip of the hot chocolate warmed his body up back to a normal core temperature, to a point where he could comfortably take off his jacket and hat, letting his silver hair fall down across his neck. Tilting his head back, the feline poured the rest of his drink down his throat and walked back to the bar.

Back at the table now, he let out a small chirp of contentment as the first gulp of the German imported beer flowed down his maw. Setting the glass down, Dune purred out a little, this was what Friday nights were all about. All one needed was a calm place to chill out and rest at while at the same time progressively getting drunk through the night. Usually he would drink until he reached the line between buzzed and drunk and sit there for hours, buying a drink occasionally to keep him there.

As the caracal drank, he finally began taking in his surroundings, scanning the bar to see what it was like. The first thing he noticed was that there were no females here. A deep breath confirmed his observation as no feminine scents hit his nose. The club had about twenty furs in it- not crowded, but also not very empty. For the caracal, this was an acceptable number, and so he relaxed further with the intention of staying through the night.

As he drank his second beer, the mood inside seemed to slowly change. All the furs had moved to the outer tables, some talking with each other, some lounging by themselves like he was. The tables in the middle were removed by the staff, opening up a space that looked like a dance floor. Dune chuckled to himself, thinking that nothing would be more hilarious than watching some drunk furs attempt to show off on the floor.

The lights were dimmed and the music was turned up, the bass behind it just barely causing the floor to rumble on some of the deepest notes. Dune's foot long tail swished to the beat, the caracal more than happy to begin losing himself within the rhythm. Closing his eyes, he allowed his mind to become lost in the noise, the thrumming of the bass softly encouraging him to let his imagination loose. His mind wandered among stories of grandeur, of being a hero, to wondering what life must have been like centuries ago when there was so much open space to roam through.

Time passed on as he wandered through his mind's expansive creation, enough time that when Dune finally opened his eyes again, the scene had changed dramatically. The music still played, but each table simply now had a lit candle in the center of it. It was so dark that even his feline eyes could hardly see what lied beyond his little halo of light. His nerves began tingling, instincts telling him that this wasn't right, that it wasn't safe in here. Already his breath rate was rapidly increasing, ears pricking everywhere in a desperate plea to find an exit. His eyes had dilated, but his range of sight was only barely increased.

Dune was just about to jump up and make a run for it, the need for escape overwhelming his senses, when suddenly he felt a breath across his ear and two paws encircled him around his chest. A soft voice soothingly whispered to him.

"Calm yourself, there's nothing to be afraid of here."

The caracal tried again to regain some control of his instincts, but he had struggled with a very strong form of claustrophobia since he could remember. All his brain kept telling him was that he was trapped inside a room and he had to get out. Dune tried to focus on the voice, the calm, peaceful voice telling him that he was fine.

Those paws softly stroked over his arms, weakly holding his wrists and rubbing fingers over his rough pads. Breaths chuffed over his muzzle as another feline muzzle rubbed up against his. Dune wasn't sure what to think or do. It wasn't the fact that the cat behind him was most certainly male and was rubbing against his face; the caracal wasn't picky with who he bedded with. He mostly stuck to the females, but did join in on the occasional homosexual action. What was different was that he had always been the one to initiate the contact or the invitation. He had always felt more control doing that, and because of that, he had always been the one on top.

His breathing rate began to slow down, his brain finally overcoming its disease, allowing him to just relax in the hold of the unknown feline behind him. A soft moan escaped his lips, a little tingling running through his sheath as his shaft began to awaken. The paws left his wrists and gently stroked up his arms, caressing his muscles and scratching over his skin. The claws worked their way up to his shoulders and neck and began to knead the now sore tendons and flesh. He had temporarily forgotten about spending ten hours hauling shit everywhere, but those areas hadn't.

The paws pressed against the thick strand of meat there, rubbing and massaging the knots there. Dune hadn't realized just how tight those muscles were until he felt them begin to loosen. He groaned and hissed as each little area untied itself, the knots uncoiling, leaving him with a sense of pure pleasure. He didn't even notice how hard he had gotten until one paw left his neck and made a quick swipe over his jeans, cupping around his rock hard pole underneath the denim and giving it a soft squeeze.

The tan cat let out a soft moan and humped hard against the grip, his short tail arching in desire. The feeling was indescribably good, but short lived. The paw drifted back up to join the first one behind his head, the feline thumbs stroking behind his ears and the fingers rubbing over his skull, helping to relieve the pressure there. Dune was in a foreign land, one he was far from used to, but the caracal was finding himself more and more comfortable with it, happily letting the cat behind him run the show.

Soon the paws left, and with it, the sense of closeness, the breath no longer there against his cheek, the rough tongue not there to make soft passes over the bridge of his muzzle. Dune wanted him back, but he had no clue who it was and again was already feeling nervous about how little he could see. Feeling the need to say something in the hope that the other one would come back, Dune opened his maw, but was cut short before he could speak when a feline slipped into the chair across from his own.

The caracal immediately recognized the scent, that being the same one that had been washing over him just a minute before. Relaxing again, Dune looked into the shining golden eyes and purred. He was sure his own blue eyes were just as luminous with the other cat staring back at him just as intensely. Spoken word felt too out of place, almost as if it would disturb the atmosphere.

The feline across from him was as gorgeous as his eyes were. The fur glowed a golden hue, with black stripes and spots mixing in with each other. He was about the same build as the caracal, maybe a mere ten to fifteen pounds lighter, but the difference wasn't important. A small head was matched with large ears that ended in slight tufts of black fur. He was undoubtedly a serval, and a beautiful one at that. Dune smiled at him, purring stronger, waiting for his African cousin to make the first move as he did so previously.

Disappointment was nonexistent as the serval glided an upturned paw over the table, an obvious, but unspoken invitation to join him. Dune didn't hesitate, sliding his own paw over to cover the golden and black one already there. The two paws squeezed together and rubbed over the other one's fur and skin, imprinting their own specific scents on each other. After a short while, they broke contact, bringing their newly scented paws to their noses and breathing in all the important information about the other.

A second offering of a paw followed, a sign of acceptance and a signal to go further. Dune obliged and followed the serval away from the table and into the darkness. A sense of fear sought refuge in the caracal's mind, the worry of entrapment that plagued his senses seeking a foothold in his thoughts, but for as long as he had contact with the serval, he held them at bay. The paws soon intertwined with each other, the second paws each exploring their partner's body.

The music was stronger than before, the pounding rhythm of the notes seemingly awakening an urgency for the caracal, but he restrained himself for the serval holding him was working a very methodically slow pace, one that asked for Dune to remember that there were many hours in front of them. He breathed and moaned as the spotted paws slipped underneath his shirt, rubbing over his back, the claws tickling over his spine.

He let his own paws encircle the serval's back, holding on to him as those dexterous paws of his worked their magic. Pleasure burned through his back, the pressure on the flesh there soft and soothing. They circled each other until finally the golden cat wrapped his legs behind Dune and lifted him up. It was seconds later when his dangling feet found purchase again. The serval pushed forward, keeping his legs firmly locked around the caracal's in order to keep him from gaining any balance.

Dune was sure he was going to fall over backwards, but was stopped short when he collided with a wall hard enough to knock a bit of breath from his lungs. A protective paw caught his head before it hit the wall as well and then brought it forward to meet the black lips of the serval. The contact was beautiful and soft, just a slight brush of flesh against his own. Nothing demanding, but rather enticing. Their lips pressed against each other, soft caresses of affection and of love.

Neither one knew the other's name, but there was a sense of intimacy between them that Dune had never known before. It was as if this night in this club in the darkness, they were meant for each other, almost as if fate had destined that this moment should happen. Dune felt the serval pull back, but only slightly before pressing his nose against the caracal's.

"Kestrel," the golden and black cat softly breathed out.

"Dune," the caracal responded.

There was no need for additional words, rather they locked lips again, hungry for the closest contact they could get from the other. The serval's paws slid back up underneath Dune's back, but this time one rubbed up against the back of his neck while the other began lifting his shirt off. He groaned as the fabric softly lifted from his fur, leaving his chest and back open to the elements.

This club had been perfect ever since Kestrel had rubbed up against him and nothing changed. The air was warm and cozy, almost as if he was standing nearby a fire on a late summer night. Dune wondered how the serval would react once he saw the small sapphire rings that pierced through his nipples. He normally wore copper ones during work so it would blend in better with his fur and cause less of a scene, but when he went to clubs, he liked the extra attention they garnered. The golden amber eyes glanced down, then back up into his own eyes. Kestrel licked his lips and murred before pressing forward with his maw.

Dune let out a guttural moan, stretching his neck towards the ceiling as hot breath and tongue encased his right nipple. He felt the rough barbs on the flesh rub over his sensitive skin, the teeth even nipping at it. Kestrel brought his free paw up to the other nipple and began playing with the ring, twisting and gently tugging at it, eliciting more gasps and moans from the caracal's maw.

Lips fully covered his nipple as the serval began literally making out with the flesh, the tongue spending equal amounts of time playing with the flesh and metallic ring. Drivels of saliva began creating streams through Dune's chest fur as the spotted and striped maw continued to make work of the soft flesh underneath it. Tan paws stroked over the serval's head and upper back, his lips pressing against the top of Kestrel's head to stifle the shuddering moans of ecstasy that continued escaping from his maw.

Finally, the golden pelted feline released the nipple from his grasp, but not before moving a paw over the surrounding fur to hold him steady and using his teeth to quickly yank the ring. Dune chirped at the surprising burst of quick pain, but the lips quickly returned to suckle a little bit more as if in apology. Seconds later, they left again, but almost immediately locked onto his left nub of flesh.

Dune could hardly control himself. His cock was straining against his pants, desperate for freedom, his underwear nearly soaked with precum. The black serval lips continued molesting his quickly moistening nipple, flicking under and around the ring that ran through it. Gasping at the overwhelming amount of sensations, the caracal clutched at the serval's back, simply trying to maintain a hold on the world he knew, or at least thought he did.

The lips played with the flesh and ring a bit longer before repeating the same exit as before, quickly returning to soothe the pain and then leaving again. Kestrel stared back up at his mate, pressing his soaking wet lips against Dune's nose and releasing a near mouthful of nipple flavored saliva. Plenty of it drooled down his muzzle, the caracal closing his eyes and opening his mouth to catch what he could. The serval's tongue slipped out and made a small pass over the roof of the caracal's mouth, catching some of the residue to take back into his own maw.

Kestrel stepped back, letting go of his partner, quickly removing his shirt and unbuttoning his pants before Dune had even regained his balance, moving right back in to press his chest against the silver fur of the caracal's. Dune practically mewled when he felt the serval's wood press up against his own. The full noise was cut short as the serval again pressed his lips against the caracal's red ones.

The kiss was far more demanding than the first one. It belayed a growing sense of need and of desire, a sort of feral lust that was slowly breaking through the walls of calmness that Kestrel had so perfectly expressed. Dune took the initiative this time, being the first to press his tongue against the serval's teeth, rubbing over the smooth and sharp bones. Kestrel soon spread his mouth open, licking the caracal's tongue, drawing it inside his confines.

Dune softly rubbed one paw up and down the serval's back, while the other softly cupped the golden head pressed against his. His shaft begged to be paid attention to, but he ignored it for now, simply too overwhelmed in rapturous affection he had never known could exist to care. He only wanted Kestrel and it seemed the serval only wanted him. If it only lasted tonight, then at least this was one night Dune knew he would never forget.

The tongues danced inside Kestrel's maw, the caracal's exploring every inch while the serval's constantly encouraged it and drew it to new places it hadn't yet touched. The intricate weaving continued on for what felt like an eternity and more, the thought and awareness of time disappearing just as Dune's fear of what was lurking in the dark had. He had never felt this attached, this close to anyone before and he felt like he could give up the world in order for it to never end. He would be willing to give up all of civilization just to know he would wake up in the serval's golden and black arms when the sun rose again each day.

Dancing flesh trailed into the caracal's maw now, Kestrel more than ready to get his chance to dive into Dune's unexplored mouth. Entangled and excited, the youthful wildcats held each other close, paws soon beginning to travel to previously untouched spots. The caracal drifted one paw inside the serval's loose pants and slid his tail out of the hole. Kestrel's tail was velvet soft and was actually a bit shorter than his own foot long one. While servals were quite similar in appearance to cheetahs, the tails were much different, as a cheetah's was the longest tail in proportion to body size of all the felines. Considering how fast they could run, it was necessary to have such a long rudder to help balance and turning.

Kestrel purred loudly as his tail was fondled, happy to let the caracal do all the naughty groping for now. His paws were working on massaging the muscles behind the tan feline's armpits. Their kiss had deepened even further, each holding the other's head with their other paw. The world was filled with nothing but the two of them, the darkness beautifully eliminating all other distractions. Over time, their eyes had been able to pick up just enough light to see each other and that was all they wanted.

Fondling the serval's tail only satisfied Dune for so long. Soon he was prodding the pants down, and Kestrel was more than happy to oblige, softly stepping out of them to leave only his boxers. They had long ago removed their shoes, leaving only their socks on to act as a buffer to the chilly bar floor. Kestrel broke the kiss to let out a soft moan as a tan paw traced its way to the set of jewels beneath his tail. Two claws traced up from the area just underneath his sac all over his scrotum, spreading around his ring and finishing with one last clawed stroke over the underside of his tail.

The serval finally reacted, quickly regaining the control he had possessed since the night began. Pressing his lips back against the caracal's, the golden wildcat moved forward and ground his nearly exposed shaft against the still imprisoned one owned by his lover. Dune's eyes closed, purring strongly as he involuntarily reacted, thrusting hard against the contact, a spout of pre erupting from his cathood.

Torture was not something Kestrel was a fan of, and after a few thrusts, the serval brought down both his paws and unbuttoned the restricting jeans, using them to slide the jeans to the caracal's ankles. At this point, he was determined to move forward, and so after the tan furred cat stepped out of the denim, Kestrel slipped one thumb into the boxers and pulled them down, exposing nine inches of soaking, hard, barbed flesh.

Dune hissed and softly yowled as the cool breath of the serval's mouth spread around his tortuously throbbing cock. He looked down and caught eye contact with his mate before he had to stretch his neck out again, letting out an almost feral growl as Kestrel lapped out his tongue and traced it up from behind his balls to the very tip of the dark red flesh. Hissing as the tongue continued back down over the top of his member, the caracal clutched at the wall behind him.

Traveling around the white furred sheath, Kestrel closed his lips around the furred casing and gave it a few suckles. Scooting forward, the serval turned his head upward and stroked his tongue over Dune's sac before sitting up and letting both the orbs gently slide into his maw. The caracal let out a loud moan, finally once again noticing the thumping bass of the club music still going strong, the vibrations underneath his footpads accentuating the glorious feeling of the serval's slimy saliva coating his sac.

His tail slapped the wall, the little appendage catching the eyes of the serval who gladly brought one paw up to stroke over it, the fingers caressing the top of it while the thumb rubbed the other side. Another piercing could be found there, an amethyst stud that was placed just at the base of his tail's underside. Dune had figured that if he was to ever allow a male to fuck him, he should give them something to play with before they started.

Play with it the serval did, constantly rubbing it with his thumb before sliding back to the tip, only to glide back down and press the stud further into the muscle. Hisses of both pain and deep pleasure worked with the high pitched noises as a lighter song came on. Dune groaned with each passing over the stud, still purring loudly with the bass as his balls were increasingly stimulated inside Kestrel's maw. The other free paw suddenly took hold of the caracal's member, pulling it down painfully until it was just below horizontal.

There was more than enough natural lubrication to allow the free flow of the serval's golden paw over his red cock and Kestrel didn't hold back. Rather than go for fast strokes, the serval maintained perfect control, well aware of what he held in his mouth. Slow squeezes were accompanied with a firm stroke up to the tip where he would play with the glands there before moving back to the shaft's base to play inside the sheath. Precum drooled off with every stroke, the serval's fingers catching plenty to take with them on their next stroke back down.

Dune wanted so badly to thrust into the paw pads, but couldn't given where his sac was located. The serval was a demon, but a gorgeous one and was giving him every bit of attention and pleasure he could ever have asked for, and even some constant pain he was almost falling in love with as his tail stud was continuously shoved against his protesting flesh.

Kestrel rolled the sac inside his maw, his tongue gliding over the very sensitive skin, massaging the scrotum with his lips. He kept his teeth well out of the way, knowing that to use them would be far too risky. He kept his paws going, hypnotically working the twelve inches of tail and stud while his other drove the caracal towards a release he was practically now begging for.

The balls in his maw were starting to move around, the scrotum tightening, allowing more drag on his lips, and therefore, even more pleasure. Letting go of the caracal's tail, he brought the other paw behind Dune's balls and began to stroke over the flesh that ran between his legs and led directly to his tailstar. The muscle was very tight and hard, signaling how close his caracal was to climaxing.

All at once, Kestrel thrust three fingers into his ball filled maw and coated them in the bath of saliva. The extra sensation was enough to make the caracal buck into the other paw's grasp, but wasn't quite enough to send him over the edge. The serval slipped his drenched digits back out and slid two of them up the edges of the taught flesh. Positioning the third finger against the caracal's quivering pucker, Kestrel firmly closed his lips around the sac inside and squeezed hard over the dark red flesh above him.

Dune yelled out as the sensations flooded over him, threatening to drown him in the thick sea of pleasure. Suddenly, a slick rod thrust into his ass, sliding up a good few inches before pulling back and then smashing back in. Spit showered the serval below him as the pain of entry was nearly immediately overridden by the pleasure his prostate was suddenly given. The paw squeezed ever harder against his throbbing member, his balls sucked on like a cub's mother's teat. The claws danced over his flesh, encouraging, no demanding the caracal empty his entire stock of cum.

A second finger entered to join the first and rather quickly a third slid in as well. The pain of such a quick stretching was intense, but only served to amplify the overall world of pleasure he was trapped in. The three fingers slammed up the knuckles each time before sliding down to the edges of the nails and then flying back in again. His balls were aching, desperately trying to release their torrent of seed, but couldn't quite do it as Kestrel held them down with his maw. Ecstasy coursed through his cathood, more than ready to impregnate the club's floor and the serval's back.

Finally, the caracal felt movement below him, Kestrel stretching his back legs out and then slamming his head upwards into Dune's crotch, ramming all three fingers deep into his ass and rapidly stroking over the flesh now pointed directly at the gold and black pelt of Kestrel's back. Now able to make the connection needed for his orgasm, he felt his sac jump up inside Kestrel's maw, tugging tight against his scrotum and releasing their contents into his urethra.

Dune screamed in abandon as he erupted, feral ecstasy taking control of him as he thrust time and time again into that rough paw, spurt after spurt of spunk flying out of his shaft. Burning heat coursed through his entire member, exploding time and again with each throb of seed, his essence coating Kestrel with cum. As his stream finally slowed down, the serval let go of his sac, pressing his head up against the base of the still throbbing dick, closing his eyes as the contents began streaming down his neck.

It had been so long since he been with such a stud. Kestrel groaned as the searing hot spunk drooled down his neck and back, his gold and black fur now stained with zig-zagging lines of white. As the stream finally slowed to a trickle, the serval pulled his head back and slid the tired shaft into his mouth, sliding it all the way down to the sheath, drinking his seed, tasting his essence. As the spent cock pulsed its last, Kestrel drug his teeth softly over it, pulling back until the last bit of seed was sucked out like a straw, sending one last shudder through Dune's body before the caracal slumped to his knees, falling forward into the mess of cum.

Groaning in delirious satisfaction, the caracal lapped at his own cum, his chest and neck now coated with the same spunk he had laced all over Kestrel's backside. The serval let him rest there for a bit before lifting him up with his head. Their lips met again, sweet saliva washing over their tongues as Dune tiredly accepted the serval's excited ministrations. Kestrel finally pulled back and stared happily into the caracal's blue eyes before asking him a question that nearly made Dune pass out.

"Ready for round two, stud?"

The caracal could hardly believe his ears. He had no clue how he was going to manage a second round, but as he looked at the cum soaked serval, he remembered that the black shaft next to his was still in need of release. Letting out a sigh, Dune figured that if Kestrel could build him up to such an intense climax, then the serval probably would know how to gently take him back from exhaustion to recovery and then a second one that would be just as fantastic as the first.

"Yeah, just take it slowly please," the caracal pleaded.

"Absolutely," was all the response Dune got before those black lips closed in on his again.

The serval slipped his tongue back into his mouth, coating the walls with the taste of the caracal's cum and musk. His spotted paws wrapped around Dune, one caressing his neck while the other simply stroked up and down his back, occasionally scratching his spine. The caracal melted into the kiss, allowing himself to float into the world his beautiful serval offered him- a world of love and pure desire and bliss.

Using the wall as a support, Dune rested his back upon it while Kestrel leaned against him. Both felines were interested only in each other and in how they could best please their mate. Their paws ran over their whole bodies, stroking over every square inch of fur they could. Cum coated the caracal's paws and arms, but he didn't give a damn. He spread his essence all over the serval's body, beginning to tease Kestrel by rubbing globs of it onto his scrotum and over his shaft.

Adrenaline and testosterone coursed through both feline's veins and arteries, delivering all the energy their muscles needed to continue the onslaught of pleasure. Kestrel groaned as the once worn out caracal started to overpower him, the paws working over his rump, massaging large amounts of seed into his cheeks and scrotum, some even matting his tail fur. The serval could tell where this was headed, but unlike last time, he gave in and let Dune begin having his way with his spotted body.

It wasn't long before the couple were all over each other yet again. Lips mashed against each other, tongues performing a sweet dance inside their maws that they only knew. The caracal's paws continued flowing through the milky sea of the serval's back, his red shaft again erect and hard, pressing his own against the shivering surface of the now very needy serval. Kestrel simply held on, one paw around Dune's neck and the other tightly holding his back.

The serval's ass was drenched in the caracal's cum, the slimy substance drooling in his crack and scrotum, pouring down his sac and pooling on the floor below him. Kestrel was growing close, but still had a while to go before the inevitable hit. Dune seemed to sense this and finally began proceeding. Holding the kiss for a few seconds more, the caracal brought his paws up and pulled Kestrel back, using his soaked fingers to smear his cum around the serval's lips and nose.

Gently circling around, Dune slid behind Kestrel, wrapping both his paws around the white fur, smearing more of the spunk into his chest. Wrapping his maw around the back of the golden fur, he began sucking the cum from his fur in a long trail that led to his ass.

Kestrel groaned as he felt those lips and tongue work over the back of his neck, his cub instincts causing him to relax immensely within the grasp. Dune held his teeth around the fur as he brought his hips against the servals, sliding his cock into the crevice of Kestrel's rump. Wrapping his arms strongly around his mate's chest, he began to thrust upward and back down, his cock sprouting out on the sides of his tail to leave a small mark of precum there with each successive thrust.

Moaning loudly, Kestrel took each lewd thrust through his soaked treasure trove in stride, squeezing his cheeks during each thrust upwards, nearly shuddering as the barbs tickled and scratched the sensitive flesh and fur on their way back down. The serval clutched the wall in front of him, placing his lips against the stone as his instincts craved it like a cub would his mother's nipple while trying to feed.

Finally, after a few tormentingly beautiful minutes, Dune let go of the serval's neck and continued his trail downward, scooting back as he traveled ever southward. He was in a much more familiar position and he decided that Kestrel more than deserved what was coming. This was not something he did often, saving it only for the very special moments. As the caracal drifted further back, now nearly licking and sucking on the base of the serval's golden tail, he brought his paws around Kestrel's hips and guided him down the wall until his front paws slipped to the ground.

Lifting the serval's tail up, Dune licked up the matted fur, the barbs on his tongue helping to collect almost all the cum that was there. Instead of simply swallowing it as he had done before, he pressed his muzzle against Kestrel's rear and released his hold on the serval's hips, using them now to spread his glorious golden and black cheeks, allowing him to push his muzzle forward.

Kestrel hissed as the tongue drove a trail from the the bottom of his scrotum to the very top of it, spreading the liquid all over it. He felt the member slow as it reached his pucker and then mewled when he felt hot lips close around it, that barbed tongue beginning to stroke over it. The serval clutched at the ground, nearly unable to believe what the caracal behind him was doing. Rimming on a one night stand?

But the fact was that it was happening, and it felt amazing. It was such an intimate gesture, one that was purely one sided. The serval softly bit his lip as he felt the fleshy tongue prod against his entrance, the slick opening not providing much resistance. He nearly came when all of it slipped in at once, those lips still sucking tightly around the skin as the flesh drove deeper.

Shuddering moans and gasps left the serval's maw as the caracal's tongue continued to prod the walls of flesh inside his ass, slicking it up for what was coming next. Kestrel could hardly breathe, his mind and crotch so overcome with anticipation for what would surely be one of the most electric and heavenly fucks ever. His ass squeezed involuntarily with each stroke of the tongue, his reflexes no longer able to tell the difference between an actual shaft and the curled member currently inside him.

The serval let Dune have his full way with him, intent on allowing the caracal to fuck him with his tongue for however long he would generously keep it there. He was more than rewarded as the caracal brought both his paws up and wrapped them around his pelvis, yanking him backwards while at the same time pressing his maw against his ass even more forcefully than before.

Kestrel yowled as he felt bared teeth bite around his scrotum, actually piercing the skin, driving him nearly insane in one flash of pain and feral pleasure. The fangs dug in a little more, enough to effectively hold him there as the lips held on like suction, the rough, wet edges stroking against his skin and matted fur. Dune paid no attention to the blood, letting it pass under his lips and begin trickling down to the serval's golden balls.

The tongue more than made up for the pain, expertly sliding around his entrance and deep into his walls, stroking over his prostate over and over again, but always lightly enough that the surge of pleasure couldn't overwhelm Kestrel's restraint. The feeling of not being able to get away from such a intense closeness was a spark of pure lust for the serval. He didn't mind topping, but he preferred the feeling of another male making the choices as long as he felt he could be trusted.

Trust was no issue here, as Kestrel didn't even disapprove of the fangs that were sunk about a centimeter into one of his most vulnerable areas. The serval knew that Dune knew what he was doing, and so he kept his ass still, rather clenching and scratching at the ground with his claws and the pain and pleasure washed together to create an almost instinctively feral experience.

Dune flexed his teeth from time to time, making sure to keep both the blood flow going and the serval's senses in hyper drive. His tongue never slowed, intent he was on using every bit of energy his maw could spare on the serval's ass. He had never bitten a bottom before, and in fact, he hadn't even thought about it before doing so just a minute ago. It just felt right in his mind, the need to claim full dominance over his catch.

The caracal didn't see it that way in his mind, but his instincts were very awake. As soon as he bit him there, he had realized the potential for a violent reaction and had been more than ready to let go and defend himself. Thankfully, Kestrel not only accepted it, but was thoroughly enjoying it, groaning each time he flexed his hold. The caracal made sure not to sink any deeper though, careful to avoid going deep enough to actually tear into the muscles.

The walls inside were as slick as they were going to get, the stroking of his tongue now simply so he could hear more gasps of pleasure coming from the serval's maw. Every part of him, his mind and his instincts, wanted nothing more than to make the serval as happy as he could, but he knew that he had to move things along or he would most definitely end up causing Kestrel to climax before he ever got inside of him.

Craning his neck up and letting out one last mewl, Kestrel felt the tongue finally fully exit his pucker, a long drool of saliva flowing out of it, signaling that he was more than ready to be taken. The fangs let go of his scrotum, but the lips immediately closed around each puncture wound, rubbing the natural disinfectant of saliva around them and sucking the blood out.

Kestrel moaned again as the last hole was cleaned up, each one aching and stinging as the saliva did its work. He groaned again as he felt the paws finally slip back up his chest, guiding him back up the side of the wall until he was on his knees again. The caracal closed in on him again, sliding his knees in between the serval's and sliding forward until Kestrel was pretty much sitting in his lap. Helping to lift the serval up, Dune aimed his cock behind the golden tail and guided it against his pucker. He held the golden cat up and whispered to him.

"Only when you're ready."

The serval sighed in bliss, realizing how respectful an action like that was. Allowing him to pierce his own ass was more than kind, it was almost loving, not something you'd expect outside of marriage or a long term relationship. Bracing himself on his knees, Kestrel did his best to relax his pucker and then slid down, almost choking as the shaft sunk in the whole way. He craned his neck out in pure ecstasy as his ass clenched against the invader, trying to push it out, but he held himself down, hissing as the muscles cried out in protest.

After a few seconds, the serval slid back up the pole, rising a few inches to relieve his muscles for a little bit before stroking back down. The tan paws around his chest slid up to his nipples and squeezed them, pleasuring the serval while allowing him to start his own pace. Kestrel soon found himself hypnotically sliding up and then back down, a gentle pace that he found more than wonderful. He was against a rough fuck that left him sore, but here it just felt like there was so much more between them besides just lust. There was more to it, at least to him, and after such an electric rimming, the serval felt convinced that Dune felt the same way.

Finally, he settled back down onto his warm and furry seat, his muscles loosened up and more than ready to let his caracal take over.

"I'm ready," he whispered back.

"How do you want it?"

"Gentle at first, but don't hesitate to let me know who's boss as we get into it."

Kestrel got no verbal response from his partner, but was instead pushed forward as his seat disappeared and was replaced with coiled hips. The serval leaned forward in the embrace, placing his paws against the wall in front of him for support. He felt the tan paws separate, one heading to the top of his head and the other going south to gently cup his cathood.

Dune placed his head onto the serval's shoulder, rubbing his muzzle against Kestrel's in much the same way the serval had when they first met. He brushed his tongue over the serval's cheek as he softly drove upwards with his hips. Kestrel gasped as the pads around his cock slid down, mimicking the path the caracal's shaft was taking inside his rump. Pleasure rippled through him as Dune stayed hilted inside the golden rear, flexing his member while squeezing firmly around the ebony black shaft he held in his hand.

Pulling back again, the barbs stroking over the wet flesh inside, the caracal lightly stroked upwards on the serval's dick, getting a small spurt of precum in his palm as he did. He slid back in just as softly as he had exited, again imitating the movement with his paw as he used the other one to softly stroke through the serval's headfur.

Dune continued on with the melodic stroking through the serval's ass and over his member, working with the soft music playing in the background, the rumbling base now replaced with a beautiful melodious tune from one of his most favorite electronic artists ever, Blackmill. As the song began to pick up in tempo, he did too with his pace, before slowing back down to match the song when it settled back down again.

The combined purring of the two felines almost sounded like a bass line itself. Each soft thrust culminated with a soft moan by both mates. As "Let it Be" began, Dune closed his eyes and just let the music tell him what to do. The caracal continued to slide up and down, now accentuating the last inch of entry with a slight buck, giving the serval's shaft a soft squeeze at the base each time he sunk in fully.

The small bucks were the first sign of the pick up in intensity, the wonderful slow pace only hinting at how thorough the pounding would be at the end. Kestrel growled softly as the amount of distance the bucking covered barely increased with each thrust. Soon it was half the cock and then it grew to all of it, and each thrust was constantly echoed on his own dribbling shaft.

Again, the beat picked up as the bass rocked the floor, driving the caracal to go further. He had already begun slipping his head further back behind the serval's, closing in on the back of his neck. He began nibbling at the fur and skin, nipping at the skin with his teeth before using his tongue to lick it as he pulled back out. The rocking became stronger, with each thrust back in hitting harder than before.

Occasionally, the caracal began ignoring the soft exit, dragging his cock out just as hard as he had previously plunged back in before slamming in yet again and then softly pulling out again. The sound of claws scraping against the walls could be heard at a higher pitch than the music, the serval underneath him having his senses wracked as his cock and ass were worked in unison.

Dune began working it harder, starting to only exit softly every other thrust, listening to the quivering moans and gasps Kestrel was unable to contain. His nipping at the serval's neck became more and more insistent and rough, biting the scruff and pulling back before pushing forward again and nuzzling him.

The thrusts were coming faster and more and more often, the serval only getting the soft exit once every four or five thrusts, even then the absolute change in attitude of the caracal behind him was amazing, as for three or so seconds, he would be as docile and loving as a lamb, tickling and stroking up his black cock until only his tip was inside and then it was back to another round of punishing thrusts.

Finally, after one last round of brutal, dominating mating, the caracal behind him brought his paws up to his shoulders, rubbing them softly before asking.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes..yes, I'm ready!"

Both paws slipped back down to his chest and wrapped around him tightly. Kestrel moaned as he felt the soft sensitive side of his lover one last time as the final exit was made. Dune took nearly ten seconds this time to fully exit, sliding both paws down to please his black pole again, but once he reached the edge, those paws left, one wrapping around his waist, the other over his ribs. Kestrel felt Dune's sharp teeth grab hold of his neck scruff and then cried out as a thrust far harder than he had felt the whole night slammed deep into him.

The caracal left himself hilted for just enough time to let out an almost evil laugh through his clenched teeth. Kestrel groaned out in both despair and anticipation before he yowled as the barbs ripped through his anus before instantly plunging back in and then ripping back out again. It was hard to find pleasure through the overwhelming mist of pain, but as the brutal thrusting continued, his instincts that had laid there dormant while he was lovingly fucked woke up in a hurry.

Pain was joined with a growing sort of ecstasy, his prostate's rough treatment only resulting in more and more bliss. Every thrust inward drove him to the peak of his pleasure, the culminating hilt sending a jet of pre from his far too stimulated member. The soft fucking had left his ass more than ready to quickly accommodate the dominate mating going on now.

Kestrel could feel his sac and the base of his meat begin to respond to the continuous assault on his prostate, but as he brought a paw down to try and help him reach his orgasm sooner, it was batted away by a very aware caracal. The serval craned out his neck and mewled to the sky, both paws back on the wall, desperately pleading with Dune to give him what he so miserably needed.

The caracal did not make him wait long, the paw around his waist sliding up a bit and the one around his chest leaving and fingering his sheath. The signs were there for Dune; he knew that his own release was flying towards him and it was only a small matter of time before it arrived. Creating a small ring with his thumb and finger, he began stroking up and down the serval's ebony cock.

Pleasure began pouring through his body, his ass clenching with each successive thrust, his neck flexing with each forceful tug backwards, his cock with each consecutive stroke up and then back down. Kestrel was beyond understanding what was going on. All that was there was what he knew. He knew pleasure, he knew pain, he knew submissiveness and he also knew love. Nothing but love in the purest sense. The golden furred cat also knew that beyond the name, Dune meant nothing much more other than the glorious feline behind him giving him the fucking of his life.

That hardly mattered now though. All Kestrel knew was that he never wanted this caracal to leave him. The serval wanted to know that he could always be with him, that this love could be permanent. Too many failed relationships marred his past, too many times he had been used and then left once his spotted rump didn't provide the visual lust that Kestrel had learned was all they had ever cared about.

This was the present though, and for now, all the serval knew was that he was wanted again. He didn't know quite what it was for sure, but the way he had been treated all night was far better than he had ever been before. Groaning, Kestrel let the world know who was inside him, who was fucking him and who he wanted more than anything else in the world.

Dune closed his eyes as he heard his name yelled by the serval he was fucking. The shaft spasmed in his paw and he felt the walls of flesh clench hard on his still thrusting dick.

Kestrel huffed and panted and nearly cried as the most intense climax he had ever felt rocked through him all the while the caracal continued fucking him, working closer to his own release which would end with his spunk flowing into the serval's welcoming ass.

Cum painted the wall as the serval came nearly as hard as Dune had the first time. The caracal could feel his second time building rapidly, the tight walls of the still shuddering serval providing sweet friction as they clamped down hard on his rigid dick. Without warning, Dune felt his balls jump and the heat nearly burned him as he spewed another round of seed, this time into the depths of Kestrel's ass.

Drool pooled from his mouth as he tried to breathe after such an intense climax. Even now, the caracal's hot spunk pumped into his rump as his own ejaculation slowed down. The tan paw now fully closed around his pulsing cock, sliding up and down firmly to encourage all the seed out that it could. As they finally regained their collective breaths, the caracal released the serval's neck and brought it forward to Kestrel's ear.

"That.....was.....wonderful! Perhaps we should meet again next week?"

"I'd love that, but do you think we could do something other than just fuck?"

"After what we just did, I'd be in the mood to do just about anything with you."

"You really would?"

"Absolutely. How about we meet here at seven and then I can take you out somewhere nice to eat?"

"That would be great."

"Settles it then. Now, do you need somewhere to stay the night?"

"Heh, we can just stay here. I took you to one of the paid rooms. There's a bed just about ten feet to our right."

Both of them laughed heartily at that statement, realizing they could have been lounging on the bed this whole time. Laughing made them both remember where Dune's cock was. Grunting out softly, he pulled out of the serval, a large drizzle of cum following his exit. The caracal then stood up, hugging Kestrel to his side and gently laid him down on the bed. Dune hopped over him and then pulled him close before pulling the sheets over them both. Turning his head to the side, he caught the amber eyes of the beautiful serval again. Bringing his head forward, he pressed his lips against Kestrel's, taking part in one last kiss before they both snuggled together and fell into blissful sleep.